


At the night of the barricade

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Series: Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 18:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18267389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Good news: Enjolras and Grantaire kiss for the first time.Bad news: it's during the June rebellion.++ Protective Enjolras





	At the night of the barricade

After a drunken speech about how fighting for a new future was a death wish, Grantaire was kicked out by his friends for the first time. Honestly, he blamed others, not him. For years of planning he warned them (granted this was in the guise of jokes, but his point still stood), yet it was at the second night of the June Rebellion when they finally reacted to his slurred words.

He slightly smiled to himself as he tried to hide his broken feelings as he entered back into the Musain. Stumbling, he reached for another drink. More than anything, his lack of energy was due to his despair for his friends rather than the actual alcohol drinking his life force away. He solely believed he became hooked to alcohol due to understanding the truth nobody wanted to believe in. Thus, lonely, he drank his pain away; to numb it. He couldn’t bear to lose the only people who accepted him.

Well, there was one secret he hid from them. He took a sip from his bottle. It was not really hiding the truth for he always expressed it, but never verbally. His friends laughed and accused the alcohol, but the beers he kept shoving into his system only suppressed the show he put on for Enjolras.

Grantaire was not sure, but had hoped Enjolras loved him back. Whole-heartedly. There were glances every now and then, but they were more filled with annoyance than love. Grantaire was sure Enjolras knew of his undying love… Maybe he only viewed as a childish, irrational love. Probably due to his constant remarks on how beautiful he was, but Grantaire did not mean how godly he looked, but how confident, sure, optimistic, and leader-like he was. It was everything he wanted; it was everything he desired.

Amongst the empty chairs and tables (presumably used for planning, but would Grantaire know? It was too sickening for him to watch his friends and Enjolras plan their deaths), he sat and shivered at the thought of the day that would come.

“Grantaire, go upstairs.” A voice he instantly recognised as Enjolras’ emitted behind him.  
He quickly turned around, for a second, struck by his beauty in the midst of this black and white world, “Enjolras,” he cleared his voice after realising how raspy it was, “Enjolras, my Apollo, what are you doing here?”  
“Is it a crime to enter a building someone else’s in?” he walked slowly to Grantaire and put his hand on his arm. Grantaire felt as if lost all attention to life. “Go upstairs.”  
With Enjolras’ face so close to his, Grantaire obeyed.

As Grantaire awkwardly ascended up to the second floor, he could not rid of Enjolras’ presence behind him. Whenever he would pause and try to ask questions, Enjolras would lightly push him up to the stairs.

When the two arrived, there were many chairs and tables left. Grantaire froze in shock, and most likely terror for he believed Enjolras would pin the blame to Grantaire, “I swear to good Zeus that I did not know there were materials for the barricade still stocked up here. I thought this was the first place they went to build the foundations.”  
Enjolras crossed his arms. “Grantaire, more than anything you should know Zeus is not good.”  
Grantaire paused in his stance, utterly confused by his dialogue.  
“Furthermore, I had ordered for these furniture to stay here.”  
“Why? So soldiers can laugh at us after they fulfil our deathly destiny?”

Enjolras did not become angry at this comment like the rest of Les Amis. He did not even sigh. Come to think of it, Grantaire never witnessed Enjolras being disappointed or angry at him. Only a serious glance, then that was it. This revival of memory served no purpose to Grantaire at that particular moment, however he still maintained the recall and did strike it as odd.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras took his hand, “I want you to live.”  
Grantaire’s eyes widened.  
“We are not oblivious to death, R. We know we are going to die. I tried to make some amis to leave this group before the future bloody battle in order to reduce the violence.”  
“Then what do you want me to do? Sit around here all day and night until I hear the screams of my friends?” Grantaire almost spat in Enjolra’s face.  
“No,” It was at this moment when Grantaire finally saw a weakness to his great Apollo: his eyebrows were creased, his eyes wide and watery, his cheeks were pink, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” There was a silence, so Enjolras took this as his turn to speak, “I want you to build a barricade." He later clarified, "Here."  
Grantaire almost laughed, "What?"  
Enjolras hastily grabbed his arm and dragged him to a table, placing it under the table. "Start with this. Tip it over."  
"What? Enjolras, no," Grantaire.spoke gravely, "I'm not going to attempt a pointless routine. I'm going to be beside you when death arrives at last."  
"No you're not." Enjolras' voice wavered but Grantaire was too furious to take notice.  
"Enjolras, the soldiers will kill me! This barricade isn't going to matter. The bullets will go through this wood eventually I shall die. I'd rather be with you than be alone."  
Enjolras stared at him with an emotion both unknown to them. Almost robotically, he turned around and marched away, barely shouting "Do as I say, R."  
Grantaire rushed behind him, walking down the stairs, "Or what?" He practically shouted.  
Out of nowhere, as if Enjolras' bubble of patience popped, he pushed back Grantaire so hard he fell and lay on the stairs. "Why me, Enjolras?"  
Grantaire was about to lift himself up to follow Enjolras outside until he was pinned down by the blond man.  
"Why try to save me? I'm a cynic. I hate everything. I hate life. The only reason I haven't died yet is because I hate death too. I spit in his face."  
"For a second!" Enjolras pinned him harder, "For a second, don't joke to hide your face. I'm scared. I'm petrified, Grantaire. I don't want to lose you."  
Grantaire took his advice. His eyes turned cold. "Why the fuck not?"  
Enjolras let go of the man. He touched the wall to balance himself.  
As Grantaire sat up, Enjolras leant down. Their faces were so close.  
Then, Enjolras pressed his lips against his. It was quick but not meaningless. Grantaire wanted to cry for Enjolras messing with his feelings. But he kissed back. And he hated himself for doing so.  
Finally Enjolras parted their lips, but not much of the distance between each other. "I don't know." Was the only thing he could manage before leaving Grantaire for definite as he did not follow him.


End file.
